The Cry
by Ififall
Summary: After the rape, John-Paul gets an admirer...


**A/N: **The story "Why Should I Care" is on a **Break.**

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><p><strong>AN:** Strong Language.

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><p><strong>AN:** This Chapter is Told from Good-heart's POV.

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><p>Selfish.<p>

That's what I am. I thought that that tag would never be stapled across my fore-head. But here it is. When my Father Died, I only had to think of myself. In a way I've had to do that for a while. Physically for most of my life. Mentally since I was **Eight**. When Death pushed my Father to abandon me, I knew what I had to do.

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><p>I didn't want to do it. But it seemed like the right thing to do. I would always prepare myself each morning. I told myself that I would swim the deepest Rivers. That I would Walk through the hottest Dessert. Or Climb up the highest mountain. I would do anything to achieve my goals and hold the truth in my weak cold bare hands.<p>

But each morning that courage that I'd felt the night before constantly eluded me. Like a Ghost playing a practical joke. Instead of chasing my Destiny over Rainbows that melted into the sky, I was bed-bound, by my coward of a mind. So one Morning, there I lay. I sleep the way I awaken. My Night-wear is dark jogging bottoms and a T-shirt.

I Wear my hoodie face down, over my face. Always.

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><p>So if you were ever to come across me one day, you would just see a heap of clothes...hopefully. This morning I pull the hoodie up and put it around me. I read on tthe page of my current book. I'm reading Raphael Sterling today. It's Science Fiction, or Sci-fi, has drawn my attention lately.<p>

i knew that being the way I was, and looking the way that **I look**, was a jail sentence in a way. The only problem was? Where do I serve my sentence?

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><p>When I Was little. I Had to hide away. So...My Father brought me to an old library. That for some reason, was never Refurbished. Or knocked down. So Me and My Father took it upon ourselves to make the Library our home.<p>

My Father activated the security system. We had used it once a Day, there was no need for any panic. Most of our visitors were animals. Except for today. I looked at the Security screens, changing the images. Nothing looked out of place, until I checked the staff shower room.

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><p>The staff room had a glass window. My Father had installed the camera. He'd had chest pains from time to time.<p>

To ease my worry we could check up on one another. I check the shower room, and to my surprise, someone is there. He appears to be quite tall A redness ripens his skin before the water's on. I'm not good at confronting my own mis-haps. I have no clue on how to handle other people. But this Guy is Tres-passing.

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><p>I look at the camera. The stranger is taking his shirt off. He's sweaty. It clings to him like a weary second Skin. His hands are Trembling. It's like <strong>he's frightened<strong> of his own body. Then he finally takes it off. In spite of myself I'm impressed.

Maybe even a tad envious. He's slim, **and** physically fit. This man is Pale, with a Healthy glow. He could be involved in sports of some kind. He's broad. His arms are muscular. I turn the camera on to a full shot. I scan past his buttocks. And glance at this Male's back...

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><p>.<p>

I say, glance. When in fact, **I stare**. I stare at this Stranger's back the way that people stare at my face. I'd like to think that my first reaction wasn't horror. Like how other people are with me. But I don't know for sure. A camera built for myself, would be the answer. But I've never had My Father's intelligence or know how.

This man's Bruise is Purple and Blue. It's swollen. I want to give him a plaster. The Bruise is located on his lower back., If he was modest enough to wear shorts, I wouldn't have seen it at all. But would I have still watched him showering? It's a Question I hesitate to ask myself. As I know that I Have no Gym Bunny lifestyle Questions.

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><p>I'm confused as the Stranger bangs the shower wall with his Palm. I Assume it's an accident. That is until he bangs his palm again on the shower wall. He cringes. As if he's in pain. Then he does it repeatedly. Each hit against the wall is more harder than the last.<p>

The man stops. Unexpectedly he leans against the wall. Then he turns around and slids down the wall. The squeaking irritates my ears. But when he reaches the floor. The stranger starts to cry. At first it's a low mumble, and whining. Then the whining turns into a loud howling of Tears that trickle down his face.

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><p>Would society laugh at a male crying alone? Some would, but I can't judge him the way that people have judged me. I want to run and comfort him. But I can't...<p>

**I'd hurt him.**

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><p>Slowly the man gets up using the rail. He gets a Purple flannel, and Radox shower Gel and washes Himself. Yes I would have admitted that I was attracted to him on a level that I couldn't explain. But I didn't express myself <strong>physically.<strong> Nor did I have to restrain myself from doing so. Being a "Peeping Tom" made me feel nervous. My Father always saw the Good in people.

But Watching Strangers Showering? I don't think he'd think that that was "Good" So to distract myself I Pick up Sterling's Science Fiction. Paula is using the Saber for the first time. It stops working. And she gets upset...Then I hear the squeak of the shower knob being turned. I look back at the screen.

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><p>I shouldn't but...the man goes out, then a second later he grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist. I change the screen back to the doors. I can no longer see the stranger. I'm assuming that as a Temporary Squatter. I think that He will dry himself, change, and leave. Accepting this Stranger's exit before he has disappeared, I quickly turn onto his Screen to say a Silent Goodbye.<p>

But the stranger is not there.

He is now in my room...**behind me**...


End file.
